


Free and Paid For

by gotsnolegs



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Gen, Smut, home for infinite losers, nsfw-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 10:27:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7841221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotsnolegs/pseuds/gotsnolegs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Uranai Baba, mischievous old crone that she is, descends into the Home for Infinite Losers to wreck some havoc. And who does she find but Nappa and Raditz? Offering them -- for FREE! -- one divination each, the men choose what to view, realize what Vegeta's been up to on Earth, and discover what hell really is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Free and Paid For

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wondered how Nappa and Raditz felt about Vegeta after they died. I've also always wondered how they would react to the knowledge that Vegeta has fallen in love and had a family. I've ALSO always thought Baba is such an ambiguous character, neither good nor bad, who is wildly underused.

FREE AND PAID FOR

 

Nappa had never particularly feared death. Sure, he didn't _want_ to die, he didn't _seek_ death, but he understood its inevitability and didn't shrink from it. It would happen one day and at that time he would finally be reunited with his people. Perhaps death truly wouldn't be so bad.

So when Vegeta decided around a mouthful of insectoid to wish for immortality, Nappa had been rather indifferent. But the spark in his prince’s eyes was not one he'd seen in recent years, and he agreed enthusiastically because he was more afraid to put a damper on Vegeta’s uncharacteristic good spirits than live forever. Besides, the idea had merit: with immortality, Frieza would no longer stand in their way.

If nothing else, maybe Vegeta could wish for immortality alone.

What Nappa hadn't expected was for Vegeta to notice his lack of enthusiasm and wildly misinterpret it. He had come to understand his murder in a way that did not particularly place blame and he suspected that death had a way of softening anger and vengeance through the mere fact that it was futile to dwell on it. By the time Vegeta – or anyone, for that matter – came within Nappa’s grasp, revenge would have already been taken by the reaper. Nothing more could be done. So Nappa understood that Vegeta had thought Nappa planned to steal the wish for himself and not only overthrow Frieza but usurp Vegeta as well. As a prince with so little to his title, it was an offence he could not bear, a risk he could not take. When the opportunity presented itself, Vegeta had destroyed him. Nappa remembered his confusion and outrage of that moment. Now he understood and he filed this away. He was certain life would deal Vegeta revenge on Nappa’s behalf.

Because although his rage was tempered by its own uselessness, that didn't mean he _wasn't_ angry, and what was particularly devastating was what he found after death.

Nappa's understanding of hell had been vague, as was most peoples’. How could he _truly_ know what hell was? He never doubted that there was a hell or that he'd be going there, but his hell took on a reassuring quality as he assumed he'd be reunited with his destroyed race. He was bewildered and outraged to find himself in a very specific hell – that is, the one that belonged to the planet Earth, the one that housed all those who had died there for eternity. He was doomed to this Home for Infinite Losers, doomed to solitude, because he was the only Saiyan to lose his life on Earth. He truly would never see his people again. 

He was surprised when Raditz found him. It hadn't taken Nappa long to forget about him almost entirely, and it took a moment of blank staring before he recalled that Raditz, too, had died on Earth. So. They would be here together, then. Two of the last, lonely, the way their lives had been.

“Vegeta?” Raditz asked gruffly. 

Nappa just shook his head, wondering if their prince would join them.

He didn't.

Years passed and he didn't, and Nappa and Raditz came to assume that even if Vegeta was now dead, he had won the battle on Earth.

Nappa wondered from time to time what had come of Vegeta. Was he dead? Had his wish for immortality been successful? Was the karma he was owed for his life of cruelty catching up with him? He voiced his thoughts to Raditz one day but he just shrugged. There was no point in spending eternity thinking about it. It was what it was.

Nappa realized this was what hell was: exclusion. Never knowing.

* * *

Uranai Baba didn't like to follow rules. Kami had had words with her on more than one occasion about respecting the fabric of time. It wasn't for the humans to know what awaited them. They had to discover it for themselves. But Baba was a greedy old crone and she much preferred to make money off her talents than abide by the rules.

Humans, Baba found, were obsessed with their own mortality. She was most commonly asked to foresee how her customers would die. Usually she took the money and told them bluntly: a car accident, a heart attack at work, old age. Sometimes what she saw tugged at her heart strings: a child with cancer, a mother murdered. She could be kind when retelling what she saw at these moments. She still took the money.

Most of the time, it made little difference whether or not people knew how they died. Nearly everyone died the way she'd foretold, but also lived out their remaining years in a haze of paranoia. How to avoid that car accident? How to cure that cancer? In her opinion, not that her clients often asked for it, it was better to not know and live a carefree life.

Which is why she also found herself in the Otherworld from time to time. The dead didn't care about their futures: they had none. The dead cared about their pasts. And when she needed a break from the lunacy of humans obsessed with their own dying days, she popped on over to the Otherworld to delve into the histories of the deceased.

Yemma hated this. Her arrival brought chaos to his usually orderly domain. Spirits scrambled to revisit the first time they fell in love, remember the first time they held their son. The excitement was tangible. They did not move along in a line. They did not listen to the Onis. And to everyone's immense surprise, she divined them for _free_. Yemma threatened, cajoled, raged at her to go back to where she belonged, but in the end he was forced to speak Baba’s language and pay her handsomely before she left. Nothing was truly free.

No, Uranai Baba did not care for rules.

She was feeling particularly mischievous the day she made her way down to the Home For Infinite Losers. _What_ delightfully sinful pasts could she view today?

* * *

The little witch floated along on her crystal ball, her shrewd eyes scanning for her first customer. Who might have the most interesting story? For down here, where no one could pay, she would be selective in who she spoke with.

Her gaze fell upon a hulking, bald man sitting languidly on a rock. _Him_ , she decided in an instant, and she made her way towards him.

Despite his size, she was sure she would have overlooked him if she hadn't recognised him. She had seen his man in her crystal ball before. Bulma had shaken her violently and demanded Baba show them the fight. Baba agreed, putting on a show of reluctance. In truth, she was curious herself. She knew of a lot of things, but knowledge of these Saiyans eluded her. She'd wanted to watch, so she'd turned her precious crystal ball into a television of sorts and they'd all crowded around it to watch in the living room of the Kame House.

Yes, this bald man had been one of those Saiyans. She didn't recognise the one beside him, who could more than spare the bald one some of his hair, but if his tail was anything to go by, he was Saiyan, too. Goku’s brother, she assumed, recalling Roshi’s hurried retelling of events long past.

(Baba had seen Goku’s death in her crystal ball, but she had no doubt his friends would wish him back with the Dragon Balls so she hadn't concerned herself with her vision.)

“Can I show you anything?” she asked, not bothering with introductions.

Neither man looked at her, instead frowning at each other as though trying to decide without speaking what to do about her intrusion.

She let her ball settle onto the ground and slid off of it. A quick consultation into it, and then, “Nappa.”

At his name, his gaze was pulled from his comrade to her. Although he appeared impassive, she knew she had surprised him.

“I'll show you one thing. What do you want to see?”

When he continued to say nothing, she focused on the other one. His name came to her through the wind.

“Raditz.”

Raditz was less skilled at hiding his surprise. “Who are you?” he demanded. “How do you know us?”

“I am a fortuneteller,” she snapped, his tone grating her patience. “And you better learn some respect.”

Nappa let out a barking laugh. “Fuck off,” he told her, his lips curling like an angry dog. “Don’t you know where you are? We're dead, you idiotic old bat. What do we care about our fucking _fortunes_?”

Baba bristled and opened her mouth to respond scathingly, when another name popped into her head. She snapped her lips shut so quickly her jowls bounced, and her eyes narrowed into tiny little slits.

The name had come to her as though she had divined it, the way she had Nappa and Raditz’s names, but the truth was she already knew this third name, already knew this person, and had been just as shocked as anyone when Roshi had told her quietly that he was staying at the Capsule Corporation. Of course, she had waved her hand dismissively and rolled her eyes, pretending like that wasn't news to her. What startled her now was the understanding that she _had_ divined that name, and it had come from the bald one. Perhaps unconsciously, he had thought it and sent it her way.

So she spoke it aloud. “Vegeta.”

Nappa’s eyes met hers evenly, coldly, and silence stretched between them. He was trying to figure out why she had brought him up. Was she here on his behalf? What did she know about him? Was it a trap? Baba waited impassively. He would either take the bait or he wouldn't. She decided that if he dismissed her again, she would leave and curse him for a thousand years. Let's see him lounge on rocks then.

Nappa shifted and eyed Raditz, who was also peering at her with an uncertain frown.

It was a moment longer before Nappa simply repeated, “Vegeta.”

“Yes,” Baba said impatiently. “Prince of all Saiyans. Arrogant little bastard. Short. Giant forehead. Hair looks like he stuck a fork in an electrical outlet. Can't stop crowing about becoming a Super Saiyan.”

“What _about_ him?” Nappa cut her off.

Here, Baba allowed herself a small, confident smile. “Oh, but you tell _me_ what about him,” she replied. “I caught his name from you.”

Raditz swung his head almost accusingly in Nappa’s direction, and Nappa’s guarded expression slipped slightly for the first time.

“Vegeta killed me,” he said lowly, the words coming from somewhere deep in his throat, all malice and pain. “You tell me what you know about him.”

Baba grinned wickedly. “Is this the one thing you'd like to know?”

“No,” Raditz cut in. “She's baiting you, you idiot,” he said to Nappa. “Who fucking cares what Vegeta is doing? What are you going to be able to do about it from here anyway? Besides, he's probably already dead.”

Baba decided to leak a kernel of information for free. “Oh, he's not dead.”

Two pairs of the blackest eyes she'd ever seen trained on her and she couldn't suppress the shiver that ran down her spine.

“How can we even know that's true?” Raditz said, turning back to Nappa. “She's probably full of shit, just like all the other fortunetellers.”

Baba seethed, considered a scathing remark, and realized that just because they were dead didn't mean they couldn't still kill her. So instead she shrugged and climbed back atop her crystal ball. But she couldn't resist a parting jab. “You're fools. I offered you the opportunity to see anything – anything at all, and for free, too! – and you're too hung up on your boyfriend to take advantage.”

Nappa sputtered. “Boyfriend--!?”

Raditz interrupted. “I want to see the destruction of Planet Vegeta.”

Baba paused, considering. Then she shrugged and descended once more. “I can do that,” she said.

Nappa glared at Raditz. “First you don't believe she can do anything, now you're making wishes?”

“Oh no,” Baba said dismissively. “I don't grant wishes.”

Nappa growled at her and she hurried to start up her crystal ball.

“I just want to know if the rumours are true,” Raditz said. “Was it Frieza?”

“What difference does it make now?” Adopting a mocking tone, Nappa said, “What are you going to be able to do about it from here?”

“I just want to know!”

“And I just want to know if Vegeta’s getting what he deserves!”

Raditz slumped, his eyes going to the ground, and Nappa assessed him carefully. “This is because he's your prince,” he said. “This has nothing to do with ‘moving on’ or ‘letting go’, does it? This is because you're still loyal to him.”

“And why not?” Raditz snapped. “He didn't do anything to me.”

“No?” Nappa sneered. “He looked at you like you were shit on his boot. He didn't give a fuck about you. He thought you were weak and pathetic. He never had any intention of using the Dragon Balls to wish you back.”

Off to the side, almost forgotten, Baba looked between the two men, her lips pulled into an almost giddy smile, her eyes shining with glee. Oh, how she loved creating havoc down here! Yemma would pay her very generously indeed to get her the fuck out today.

Raditz scowled. “He's still my fucking prince. And yours, too.”

“Prince of what?” Nappa exploded. “All three of us, including himself? Oh, right, _four_ if we include your idiot brother, and _five_ if we count his pathetic half-breed son. But we're dead now, so that significantly cuts his number of subjects, doesn't it? What exactly is Vegeta the prince of? Get your head out of your ass, Raditz. Vegeta is a fucking asshole. Wake up and see it.”

Furious, Raditz rounded on Baba. “Show me Planet Vegeta. Now. _Show me_.”

Baba jumped in surprise and turned to her crystal ball. Raising her hands to it, she closed her eyes and cried, “Oh hoi hoi hoi poi…!” Raditz frowned at her, annoyed by her pathetic display of magic. But as Baba opened her eyes a planet appeared in her ball, all reds and oranges and yellows.

Against his will, Nappa sucked in a deep breath. He leaned closer, peering at the long-extinct planet that had once been his home. Baba smiled to herself. She had him.

“Is this the day it was destroyed?” Raditz asked.

“Yes,” Baba said.

“By… By an asteroid?”

“Just watch.”

On her little crystal ball, the scene changed. They were brought into the Palace of Vegeta, and Nappa felt his eyes soften as he looked at his old King, who was standing in the War Room with some of his most trusted advisors. Nappa was conspicuously absent and he flinched despite himself. He wondered what King Vegeta had thought about that. He had heard Frieza call all the Saiyans back to Planet Vegeta, but his prince hadn’t been ready to leave yet. “We’ll just pretend we didn’t hear it,” Vegeta said, childishly believing there would be no consequences. And Nappa, against his better judgment, had stayed too. Raditz, they discovered later, had genuinely missed the call, his scouter shorting out on his ear.

“Frieza is coming tonight – _tonight_ , do you understand? This is our last opportunity to make a stand,” King Vegeta said. “He can't take down all of us.”

There was cheering and fists banging on the table from his assembly.

“Gather up everyone you can,” he continued. “This is not the time for independent fights. We need to come together as a people to overthrow that bastard.”

“It _was_ Frieza,” Raditz breathed.

“So what happened? Why weren't people assembled?” Nappa demanded.

Baba gestured to the ball, and the scene changed. Commanders and advisors were bailing on the plan. They were going to their rooms and locking the doors securely behind them. They were packing up a few treasured belongings. They were _scared_ , and worse, they were betraying their king. But the worst was the pathetic bastard who, simpering at Frieza’s feet, told the emperor of King Vegeta’s plan.

“Oh?” Frieza has said disinterestedly. “We'll have to do something about that, I suppose.” With a flash of light, the Saiyan at his feet was dead.

A growl, long and low, formed in Raditz’s throat. “That fucking _bastard_ ,” he snarled, and Nappa wasn't sure if he was referring to Frieza or the Saiyan betrayer.

“There's more,” Baba said, calling their attention back to the scene in her ball.

A man was running through the corridors of the palace, and Raditz made a noise somewhere between a strangle and a gasp. Nappa’s eyebrows furrowed as he came closer to the ball.

“Goddammit,” the man said as room after room came up empty. “Where is everyone?”

The piece of cloth tied around his head was stained red with blood and the skin on his cheek was puckered in a scar. Bardock had never been a hero, hell, he'd barely been a fighter. He relied on his brains more than his brawn, preferring the technical side of things. He was a scientist, truthfully. And maybe that was what has brought him here. He _thought_ about things, he didn't just rush in blindly and let his bloodlust do the talking. And so he realized what Frieza had in store. He realized this would be the end of them if Frieza wasn't stopped.

And then Bardock was hovering just inside the atmosphere of Planet Vegeta, completely, bewilderingly outnumbered by members of the Frieza Force, exhausted and gasping for breath in the thin air. And Frieza waited patiently nearby, his one finger extended upright, until a tiny dot of Ki appeared above his fingernail. Bardock watched it grow, waited as he felt the electric energy of it spark against his skin, and then Frieza flicked his finger and the now giant orb hurtled towards Planet Vegeta, enveloping Bardock first, and then obliterating the planet.

Raditz was so close to the crystal ball, his nose was practically pressed up against it.

“That was my father,” he said.

“Yes,” Baba said. “And that was no asteroid.”

Raditz rocked back on his heels, looking dazed. “My… Father…?” He trailed off as those he was asking a question, but Baba was unsure how to answer. Instead she peered at Nappa.

“So,” she said, “what about Prince Vegeta.”

With a blink, Nappa tore his gaze away from the now-empty crystal ball. He paused. He thought about King Vegeta, who had tried to rally his people to take a stand against Frieza, who had been betrayed by men who were too afraid, too stupid to trust him. He thought about Vegeta’s son, the little boy whom Nappa had been charged to train, the little boy who surpassed Nappa before he was ten, the little boy who was thrown into servitude against his birthright. The little boy who grew up to be one of the cruelest men he'd ever known, who killed first and asked questions later, who relished the torture before the kill, who destroyed Nappa without a second thought.

Maybe Nappa should have done more to protect Prince Vegeta. But he recalled the way Vegeta volunteered for missions, the way he showed no mercy, the way he hurt for fun. He recalled the amusement in Frieza’s eyes the first time he'd watched the boy obliterate a soldier from the Frieza Force for daring to place a hand on his shoulder, the way Vegeta had glowed under Frieza’s distorted praise.

His eyes hardened. Vegeta was a monster. He was cruel and heartless. He had mistaken Saiyans’ love of the fight for pure evil and with this outlook he had thrived in Frieza’s court. Nappa and Raditz, too, were swept away by the current of unrelenting violence and immorality of being members of Frieza’s Planet Trade Organization, but Vegeta had no room for pity or mercy in his heart. He became positively giddy at the idea of committing murder, and he didn't care if there was a preceding fight or not. Vegeta liked the fight like any good Saiyan, but what he truly loved was the power he felt when his opponent died by his hand.

And that's what it had been with Nappa: a power struggle. In that moment, Nappa realized Vegeta’s concern had never been about a stolen wish. His concern was a shared wish. From the moment Vegeta had voiced his thoughts to him, Vegeta had been planning to kill him. There could be no victor if they were _both_ immortal, and Vegeta could never stomach sharing his position, his strength, with someone else.

Rage bubbled in his chest and he met Baba’s gaze evenly. “I want to see Vegeta as he is right now.”

Baba grinned. “Well, I will show you. But I'm going to go back a little bit first. _Oh hoi hoi hoi poi_!”

Vegeta was standing before Frieza, but not in submission. He was defiant, but he was scared. His pupils were tiny pinpricks and sweat beaded on his temple. But he appeared, confusingly, to be teamed up with Kakarot and the short, bald man from Earth, who was wearing Saiyan armour.

And then a Ki blast, sudden and fast, had Vegeta choking on his own blood and keeling over. He hit the ground with a thud, dust puffing up around him, his blood trailing through the dirt. And he turned to Kakarot and he cried.

Nappa felt his rage swell. That little puke, who so thoughtlessly murdered him, cried at his own death.

“I thought you said he wasn't dead,” Raditz said irritably.

“Keep watching,” said Baba.

A dying planet appeared in her crystal ball. It wasn't Planet Vegeta, but it was obvious it would soon meet its end in a similar fashion. The sky was pitch black and wild electricity shot through the clouds.

The picture zoomed in and focused on a small mound of dirt, hastily formed, and paused there.

“It looks like a grave,” Raditz commented after a moment.

“Yes,” Baba acknowledged.

It was a few moments more before the dirt shifted and a gloved hand shot up out of the earth. And then Vegeta, covered in soil, dragged himself out of his own grave. His face gave away his surprise and confusion and he peered at his gloved hand as though he'd find the answer there. And then he was distracted by something in the sky.

“I don't understand,” Nappa admitted.

“The humans used the Dragon Balls to wish back everyone who had been killed by Frieza and his men,” Baba explained. “Vegeta was killed by Frieza. He was inadvertently wished back.”

The trio watched as Vegeta came upon Kakarot, his hair glowing yellow and his eyes teal, and they understood as Vegeta did – intuitively – that Kakarot was a Super Saiyan.

And then suddenly they were elsewhere. The dying planet was gone and replaced by a clear one, a healthy one, one with a bright blue sky and lush green grass.

“Earth?” Raditz asked.

“Yes. With their second wish, the humans wished everyone on Planet Namek to Earth, with the exception of Goku and Frieza who planned to finish their fight.”

The crystal ball focused on Vegeta, who stood in the clearing with hundreds of Nameks, blinking up at the bright sky.

And then the image cut to a blue-haired woman leaning towards him suggestively. “Hey homeboy,” she called, and Vegeta’s surprise at her familiarity with him was clear in the way he stammered back at her.

“Hey loosen up,” she continued. “You're gonna need a place to crash too.”

“I recognise her,” Raditz said. “She was with Kakarot when I found him.”

“Yes,” said Baba. “Her name is Bulma Briefs.”

“What do I care about silly little girls?” Nappa growled angrily. “I said I wanted to see what Vegeta is doing, not watch dumb broads.”

Baba chuckled to herself. She was far from Bulma’s biggest fan, Bulma often showing disrespect and even violence towards the old witch, and she enjoyed Nappa’s harsh dismissal of her.

“Well,” she said slyly, “this is how Vegeta came back to Earth.”

“Is he still there?” Raditz asked with some surprise.

Wiggling her fingers, Baba brought the scene forward. “This is today,” she said, “right this moment.” A yellow domed building filled the ball, the words Capsule Corporation in large letters at the top. The image zoomed inwards, into the building and into a bedroom, and both Nappa and Raditz frowned when the ball focused on Vegeta, sleeping in a tangle of sheets.

“He's… Sleeping…” Nappa said slowly.

Baba straightened her back defiantly. “Yes, well. You asked what he was doing this very moment. Apparently he's sleeping.”

“You idiot!” he cried. “I wanted to know what his life was like! The universe owes him a huge kick in the ass. I want to know if he's gotten that. I want to know if it's coming.”

Baba pursed her lips at him. “Well that's not what you said, you big cue ball.”

Nappa’s fingers flexed as he itched to bash this old witch against the rocks. “Show me that!”

“You get to see one thing,” she said.

Spit flew from Nappa’s mouth. “You insolent little—“

“Look,” Raditz said quietly, and all of their attentions were brought back to the ball.

The blue-haired woman, Bulma, was coming into the room, stark naked. She yawned, her arms reaching over her head in a stretch, showing off her curves shamelessly. She ran a hand through her hair, shaking out her curls. Baba felt the heat rise to her face in embarrassment. Bulma could never know they all saw her naked.

She made her way to the bed where Vegeta lay and climbed in beside him, stealing some covers for herself. She pressed her chest against his back.

Baba blinked at the scene before her. Bulma and… Vegeta?

“What the fuck is this?” Nappa demanded, but Baba, for once, didn't have an answer.

Bulma’s arrival roused Vegeta from his sleep, and he rolled over to face her. She grinned at him, placing a light kiss on his chin. He grunted in annoyance but made no move to stop or move her.

“Good morning, grumpy,” she said to him, soothingly. Another grunt. “My, you're quite the talker in the mornings,” she added.

“As opposed to other times of day?” he asked.

This made her laugh, a sweet laugh that fell over Nappa’s shoulders and rolled down his back, and he watched as Vegeta watched her, the prince’s expression unreadable as usual, but softer.

She kissed him again, this time on his cheek, and then settled into the space between his neck and shoulder. They watched as Vegeta stiffened slightly and then relaxed again, but it was a few minutes more before his hand finally lifted and wrapped around her waist.

“Any plans for the day?” Bulma asked him, her voice muffled slightly by Vegeta’s body.

“Training,” he grunted.

“You don't say!” she exclaimed, raising her head to look at her face. “Well, colour me surprised!” Her tone was positively dripping with sarcasm and Nappa waited for Vegeta to shove a Ki blast into her face for her attitude.

But instead he just peered at her, saying nothing, doing nothing, his hand still resting on the dip of her waist.

“I have some work to do today too,” she said, “but I don't have to start for a few more hours. Why don't we make the most of the time?” She grinned at him suggestively, and this time when she kissed him, her lips landed squarely on his.

And then his hands – bare, no gloves to speak of – were in her hair, tangling through her curls, then sliding down her back, taking the covers off her, gripping her ass.

Baba made a choking sound and coughed uncomfortably as she looked away from her crystal ball. Bulma and Vegeta!?

Raditz sounded just as surprised as Baba felt. “Does he… Does he… like her?”

But Nappa was outraged. Red snapped behind his eyes as he watched the scene unfold, as he watched Vegeta – ruthless, bloodthirsty Vegeta – touch and caress and kiss her, his hands on her stomach, on her breasts, on her clit, his fingers wound around hers as she arched into him, begging him for more, her pleasure mounting the way Vegeta usually built up suffering and she came by his hands the way death usually came, slowly to start and then faster until she was completely undone.

And then it was Vegeta’s turn to lose himself as she took him into her mouth and licked and suckled and fondled, his jaw tight as his own orgasm drew nearer, determined not to make the same kinds of noises she made, the same kinds of noises that made him so hard, so ready for her. But he pulled her off before he finished, rolled her onto her back, slipped inside her with a delicacy Nappa would never have even guessed at, ground his hips against hers as he pumped in and out. His hands were back on her breasts, tugging at her nipples, his lips were at her neck, and she cried his name throatily as he made her come again, fucking her through it, letting her drip all over him and down her thighs. He didn't slow his pace. It was only a few more minutes until he gripped her shoulders tightly, his back stiffening as he went as deep as he could, spilling into her. And then he rested on top of her, her hands playing with his hair, a satisfied smile on her face.

Nappa looked up to see that Baba had her back to her crystal ball completely, her shoulders hunched and her head down as she tried not to hear the sounds of their sex. Raditz was looking pointedly at a spot on the ground. Nappa suddenly felt uncomfortable. He had watched Vegeta fuck that woman without a second thought.

As the image of the lovers faded from the crystal ball, Raditz looked up to Baba. “So what's that about?” he asked her. “Is she his concubine or what?”

Baba let out a barking laugh as she turned back towards them. “Oh no. Bulma Briefs is no one’s concubine. If she's sleeping with him, it's because she wants to.” Baba would also hazard a guess that Bulma had initiated it, over-confident woman that she was.

“Let me get this straight,” Nappa interrupted. “Vegeta is one of the biggest raging assholes to ever be a member of Frieza’s little squad. He's one of the most merciless soldiers I've ever met. He murdered me. He deserves to die a million times over for what he's done. But instead here he is, a second chance at life, and he gets to spend his time fucking that hot little piece.”

Baba shifted uncomfortably. “I don't pass judgment on what the universe chooses,” she said. “Far be it from me to understand the fates. I only divine their plans, not their reasons.”

“Fuck. This.” Nappa ground out.

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Raditz said.

“Fuck you! How does this not bother you?”

“What am I supposed to do about it? Huh? Break out of _hell_ and go find him? Personally make him pay? Give me a fucking break.”

Baba was climbing back onto her ball, eager to be away from the two Saiyans now that she had nothing more to offer them and their anger was mounting. But Nappa reached over and gripped her by the front of her cloak, dragging her towards his face.

“You stop right there, you little toad. You tell me what the fuck this is about. Is Vegeta… happy?” He spat the word like it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

But Baba didn't know. She didn't know any more than they did. She squirmed against his grip. “Let me go, you buffoon!” she demanded. “I am Uranai Baba and you will let me go this instant if you know what's good for you!”

“Is he happy?” Nappa roared into her face, his grip tightening.

“Did he look happy?” Baba shouted back. “Did he look comfortable? I would say yes. I would say it looked like he was… Like he’s…” She trailed off, hesitating, considering the implications if her guess was true.

“Like he's what?” Nappa pressed.

“Like he's in love with her.”

Nappa dropped her with an unexpected laugh and she hit the ground painfully. “Oh no. Oh, no. This is fucking rich.” He turned to Raditz and his eyes were wild. “Did you hear what the old crone said? He's in love with her!” His voice rose and cracked and he was cackling. “Vegeta! In love!”

Raditz frowned at him as Baba picked herself up off the ground, outraged at Nappa’s treatment of her, and dusted herself off with as much dignity as she could muster. Fuck getting paid. She was getting the fuck out of there. She cast a wary glance towards Nappa as she hopped up onto her crystal ball again, but he was practically deranged as he rubbed his hands over his face and laughed. She was gone from the Otherworld without another word.

“Would you fucking relax?” Raditz said, Baba’s disappearance going unnoticed. “You sound like a lunatic.”

And suddenly Nappa was upon him, gripping his neck painfully, his eyes on fire. “ _I'm_ a lunatic?” he snarled. “Me? I didn't kill my own teammate. Vegeta is a fucking lunatic. Vegeta is in love with that pathetic girl.” He started to laugh again. “What the fuck is happening? How does he get a second chance? Why isn't he still dead? How does he get to live life carefree and comfortably as though he's not a despicable person? Nothing in this entire universe is free. _Vegeta needs to pay_.”

Raditz shoved him off. “Get ahold of yourself! Who cares! You say Vegeta has it coming, well, then, he does. Maybe he does love that girl. Maybe that's the plan. Maybe he's going to lose her the same way he killed so many. Now would you fucking get over it?”

To Raditz’s relief, Nappa suddenly went quiet, his body relaxing, his contorted face returning to normal.

“Yes,” he said softly. “Yes, you're right.”

“Yes,” Raditz agreed, pleased. He glanced around for Baba, was surprised to see her gone, then shrugged and took up his old place on his rock.

“Yes,” Nappa said again, and Raditz looked over at him. “The girl. I will get out of here and I will fucking kill that girl, right in front of him.”

“What?” Raditz said.

But Nappa wasn't listening. The wild look in his eyes was gone but had been replaced by a calm detachment. He trained the deadly look on Raditz. “The girl,” he whispered, and he turned and walked away, leaving Raditz alone.

Raditz watched him go, a feeling of isolation creeping up on him. This was hell, Raditz realized: knowing too much.

* * *

Baba frowned to herself as she broke through the planes of the Otherworld and returned to Earth. Her day had truly not gone as expected and she had divined two men for free. It made her shudder and she vowed to never do it again.

But more concerning was her newfound knowledge of Bulma and Vegeta’s relationship. It confused her, even if it didn't shock her, for she had seen a great many shocking things in her time and had come to expect nothing less from Bulma Briefs. She wondered vaguely about Yamcha. Did he know? Did _anyone_ know?

And suddenly, Uranai Baba knew how to get paid.

She descended upon Capsule Corporation with an air of confidence that she didn't quite feel. Bulma was a force to be reckoned with, and she wasn't sure if Vegeta would be there in all his violence. But she found Bulma alone in her office, pouring over paperwork.

“Bulma Briefs,” she said.

Bulma jumped in surprise, her focus settling on the old fortuneteller. “Baba,” she returned casually. “This is a surprise.”

“Ah, well, the day is full of surprises. Imagine my surprise when in my crystal ball appeared an image of you and your monkey lover.”

Bulma paled but her eyes narrowed. She sensed a challenge.

“I wonder, do the others know?”

“Ah,” Bulma said with a small smile, understanding Baba’s play. “I see. You're going to tell them unless I pay you for your silence.”

Baba grinned. “That's right.”

“Well, tell them, then,” Bulma said dismissively. “They'll know soon enough anyway.”

Baba stared at her in surprise. “You don't care if all your friends know you're sleeping with the man who came to murder them all?”

Bulma sighed, resting her head in her hands. “Baba, you know this is not a secret I can keep forever.” At Baba’s confused look, Bulma’s head lifted again. “You didn't divine that part,” she said slowly, understanding suddenly coming to her.

“What part?” Baba demanded, but Bulma was grinning wickedly.

“Oh Baba, you're a terrible fortuneteller.”

Baba scowled. “You stupid girl, you can't just go around sleeping with genocidal aliens.”

“Oh, it's too late for that, I think.”

“I will!” Baba threatened. “I will tell everyone!”

But Bulma just watched her, calling her bluff, daring her to do it.

It came to Baba like a gunshot and she recoiled and gasped. Her eyes flew to Bulma’s stomach, still flat.

“A baby,” she said.

“Yes, a baby,” Bulma said. “So you run along and tell everyone if that's what you want. Everyone is going to find out soon anyway.”

“And Vegeta is okay with this?”

At Bulma’s guilty expression, Baba knew she wouldn't be leaving Capsule Corporation empty-handed.

“He doesn't know yet,” the fortuneteller answered for her.

Bulma sighed in defeat. She knew when she was had. “Alright fine. I'm not going to do this dance with you. I'll give you the money if you don't tell Vegeta.”

“Excellent.”

“Name the price.”

“Fifty million zeni.”

“Fifty--!” Bulma started, then ground her teeth down and, scowling, pulled a chequebook from her desk drawer. “You greedy old hag,” she muttered, passing the slip of paper over.

Baba grinned, snapping the crisp cheque in the air. “Pleasure doing business with you, Bulma Briefs. Good luck with the child.”

As Baba left the Capsule Corporation, she slipped the cheque securely into her cloak. No, nothing in this world was free.


End file.
